


catharsis

by jamieme



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Gaslighting, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, LOVE IS NOT A CURE-ALL, M/M, Panic Attacks, Physical Abuse, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, There's gonna be more, Tired Kyoutani, Trauma, Verbal Abuse, Watari is the bestest of best friends, hand holding, insecure Kyoutani, kyoutani pov, kyoutani's father is abusive, loving yahaba, oblivious yahaba, shallow-ish yahaba, soulmates receive the scars and bruises of each other, they're so soft, yahaba pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-18 05:16:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18114029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamieme/pseuds/jamieme
Summary: Kentarou's seventeen, and he hopes he never meets his soulmate.





	catharsis

**Author's Note:**

> this idea has been in my head for a while and now I've finally got it out!! 
> 
> this is a soulmate au in which when a person turns sixteen, they receive the scars and bruises of their soulmate
> 
> a key bc im weird  
> ▲same pov, used for time skips  
> △ changes in pov  
> — – - whatever is between these dashes is from omniscient pov
> 
> WARNING: the physical abuse isn't really graphic, but the aftermath is. just a fair warning for those who need it :*
> 
> ok enough of that, i hope you guys enjoy!!

   March third is a very special day, especially this year for Shigeru. The long awaited soul year- the sixteenth year of life. The year and day the stars aligned for you, and the fates decided the person you’re destined to love and be loved by.

   And all that other romantic bullshit Shigeru questioned, even on a good day.

   The reality is bruises, scars, and cuts appear on your skin; no pain, just the imprint of your soulmate's suffering.

  Though it was one am, Shigeru had stayed up throughout the night, as most people do on their sixteenth birthday, awaiting for some kind of bruise or scar to bloom onto his skin.

  He hoped his soulmate didn’t have really bad acne scars.

   As he sat there in front of his bathroom mirror, watching his face and arms closely, waiting for _something_ to happen (like in all the books- an obvious bruise, a weirdly-shaped scar, or maybe even a tattoo), Shigeru wondered if his soulmate had already received all his scars and bruises, or were they waiting for something special too?

  Night faded into day, and Shigeru has successfully managed to stay awake the entire night and early morning. But nothing had changed. This was normal.

  His phone dinged with a received message, and he could hear his parents downstairs making breakfast.

  Groaning in disappointment, he looks at his phone.

 

**Watari      8:12 am**

so????? Anything??

 

**Me           8:13 am**

nope. i am still a pale and blank lil boy

 

**Watari      8:13 am**

lol well you’ve got the rest of your life

and you’re bound to meet them so don’t stress out about it

 

  Shutting off his phone, Shigeru realizes the immensity of what has happened, of his age.

 _There is a person out there. Perfect for me. I will love them, and they will love me._ Although he’s had years to prepare for this moment, it’s impossible to wrap his mind around the exuberant feeling of finding perfect love.

  Shigeru bites his lip in anticipation when an idea occurs to him.

   _Of course_ , how could he be so stupid? It was the number one thing to do on your soul day!

  Quickly, Shigeru strips his shirt off and looks at the mirror. What he sees is... not what he expected.

  Red welts peppered near his belly button, and a long purple bruise covers his side from his armpit to the bottom of his ribs. Jagged white and fading scars egulf his sides and shoulders. This… _what is this?_

  Panic and horror begin to bubble in his throat, _what the fuck what the fuckwhatthefu_

  Shigeru runs downstairs shirtless, practically screaming for his parents.

 “Shigeru? Sweetie, are you okay what’s-” His mother gasps as she catches the sight that is her son’s abdomen.

  “Shigeru. What is the meaning of this.” His father booms, as if he doesn’t realize- doesn’t realize he’s _sixteen._ As if he doesn’t know what that means, what his new bruises _mean_.

  Then his mother gasps as she sees his back. Looking through a mirror in the living room, Shigeru strains his neck to see a ridged, wide scar stretching from his left shoulder to his middle back. A nasty yellow bruise painted his right side.

  Shigeru hiccups panic as his father stares him down,“They aren’t mine! I didn’t- I don’t know- I’m-”

   “Oh, honey.” His mother’s soft tone finally brings him to tears.

  Millions of panicked questions crowd his mind and spill out his trembling lips, _What the hell is my soulmate doing? How are they alive?_ (Are they happy?) _Are they getting in fights? What if-_

His parents both hug him with comfort, “Sh, it’s okay, Shigeru.” His father smoothes his bed hair.

 Sniffing, Shigeru nods and let’s go of the comforting embrace. “What’s wrong with them?”

  His parents shook their heads, discomforted by the blemished sight of their son. Pity clear in their eyes.

 And he thought the worst would be acne scars.

   “Look, why don’t you go and get changed. We’ll eat breakfast and… talk about it, okay?” His mother kisses his forehead.

 

▲

 

   Once again staring at himself in the mirror, he decides to have a different outlook. It’s not so bad.

  At least the bruises and scars aren’t climbing down his arms and up his face. His soulmate could be a delinquent or a troublesome person who got in a lot of fights… but Shigeru was made to love them, so surely it isn’t that much of a problem.

  He brushes his teeth, changes out of his pajamas, and inhales a deep breath. _It’s okay. They’re your soulmate, you’ll find them._

  Quietly going down the stairs, he notices the smell of fresh fruit being cut, citrus floating through the kitchen. He smiles slightly at how his parents knew what would make him feel better.

   His father looks up from his book, already sitting at the table. “Feeling better?” _No._ But he still joins his mother in cutting up fruit for their breakfast.

  How is one supposed to feel better when they’re soulmate is covered up in scars and bruises? Well, it _does_ make sense…

  “Maybe that’s it!” Shigeru says out loud. His mother looks away from the apple she’s cutting to glance at him with concern. “Maybe.. Maybe my soulmate gave themselves these scars, so they’d be easier to find! Like the big scar, no one else will have one exactly like that!”

   His father looks at him with doubt, but surely he wouldn’t crush his own son’s hopes. “...Maybe. But don’t you think that scar is pretty severe? How desperate would they be to-”

   Shigeru cuts him off with desperation, “Maybe they’ve been waiting for me a really long time. Like… maybe they’re older than me and thought they’d never find me, so… you know, they had to do something obvious and easier to find!”

 His mother, bless her soul, joins in on his hope, “Yes! Maybe they play a really rough sport, you never know what people will do to win these days…I mean, you have your own bruises from volleyball!”

  Nodding along for his own safety and for his son, Shigeru’s father says, “You know, on my soul day, I woke up with a giant bruise running down my leg… turns out your mother had been a wild child, and fell down a tree she had been dared to climb.”

  His mother giggles at the story they always tell, “And we went to the same school! So when you saw the only girl with a bruised up leg, you knew it was me!”

   It’s when his parents act like this, that makes Shigeru impatient. He wants that- he craves for the warmth and security and love his soulmate is sure to bring.

  For now, he’ll settle on admiring how amazing his parents are. (And ignore the fear that begins to uncoil in his gut)

 

▲

 

**Me          10:32 am**

turns out im looking for a desperate person who’s uhhhh got a lot of scars

they’re pretty cool

 

**Watari     10:32 am**

scars?? yo that is p cool

it’ll be easier to find them!

why are they desperate tho

 

**Me           10:33 am**

I’ll show u when I come over later

 

△

 

  He’s seventeen, and he hopes he never meets his soulmate.

  Not only would his soulmate be disappointed in having him as a soulmate, but they’d probably yell at him for having such ugly bruises and scars.

   _Well_ , Kentarou shrugs, _they’ll have to deal because I’m not the Fate that decided to fuck around with us_

Not that Kentarou really knows what love is. All he’s gotten is bruises and pain. (Once upon a time, he’d known warmth)

   _How fucking cliche,_ he thinks bitterly, as he washes the dishes at the fast food joint he’s working at part-time.

  It’s already 11:54 pm on Saturday, and he’s been at work almost the entire day. Weekends suck. All he has is morning practice and work to distract him; he’d rather sit on the school roof.

  But the real problem was at their small apartment- a raging man with a weekend off with alcohol and cigarettes. Kentarou will do _anything_ to avoid him. If that means working countless hours during the weekend, then he’ll gladly take it. Besides, he needs the money.

  By the time Kentarou actually gets to the apartment, his legs ache from practice and standing up for ten hours. His back also aches, but that’s something else. (the pain from imprints of hands and belts)

  “I’m home,” he mumbles quietly, not bothering to take his shoes off because he knows it’ll just upset the old man. ( _“Do you even know how to put your shoes properly at the entrance? Are you a fucking child?”_ )

   The apartment doesn’t look that different from this morning- an old couch with non matching pillows, books and newspaper strewn everywhere (which Kentarou quietly picks up and places on the coffee table), a dirty ashtray, and the lights flickering even though he had switched them on. _Fuck, I hope I only have to change the lightbulbs._

He stepped into the kitchen only to find himself face to face with possibly the worst thing he can come home to late at night.

  Dirty dishes piled high in the sink. (It’s just one old man! How many dishes does he need?!)

  Desperate, Kentarou prays to any gods out there that the old man is in deep sleep as he begins to wash and dry all the dishes quickly.

  But as always, the gods do not pity him.

  Heavy footsteps boom from the hallway. Unintentionally, Kentarou’s whole body tenses and panic begins to flood into his lungs. _Fuck fuck no, no, no no-_

  “Kentarou?” A hollow voice calls out from behind him.

  Shoulders pinched high, he schools his expression as he turns around to face the man with bruises under his eyes and sadness that aged him centuries. _He’s just a man, he’s nothing, fuck that old dude, you’re fine-_

“What’s the meaning of this?” The old man steps closer, anger hidden deep in his tone.

 “Do you know what time it is? One in the fucking morning. Do you think I want to be woken up at this time? Do you know how to be quiet?” Though the man’s expression is clear and amiable, his words pierce through Kentarou’s weak resolve.

 “S- sorry.” Dammit, how could he stutter at a time like this? “I just got back from work, I had to do my chores-”

   _Why are you afraid? When will you be strong? How will you find love like this?_ Kentarou’s mind whispered, _Why would someone care for you when you give up so goddamn easily?_

 “I didn’t ask for your poor excuses.” Dark eyes narrow at him, his voice always calm (always so fucking calm, it _irritates the piss_ out of Kentarou), “Go ahead and play grown up, but that money and effort won’t get you anything if you keep disrespecting me.”

  He grits his teeth, _don’t get angry, hold it in, hold it in, hold it-_

“Fuck you, I _am_ an adult. Why should I treat someone like _you_ with respec-”

  A sharp knee finds its way into Kentarou’s stomach, choking the words from him.

  “Here I thought we were having a normal conversation, like _adults._ But silly me keeps overestimating your abilities to be fucking normal.” A fist is pulled back, and it’s not Kentarou’s. “Do I need to teach you like a child?”

 

△

 

   As tiring as practice can be, the ache in his muscles is always welcome. The pull and strain at his thighs as he jumps to serve is an exhilarating feeling; it makes him feels powerful.

  He hopes that that’s something his soulmate will be able to see in him. Once Shigeru finds them, he’ll make sure they don’t get as hurt as much. (He’d woken up with a new red spattering of bruises on his ribs) He’d protect them, talk to them, do whatever it was to prevent more bruises and pain. (he always hopes it’s a sport, dear God, let it be a sport)

 Shigeru is certainly glad he doesn’t feel the pain of all the bruises; he doesn’t know how he’d be able to play volleyball and feel the sting of each bruise that covers his body.

 Swiftly, Shigeru returns his attention to the game and sets the ball to Kyoutani. They’re currently in a practice match, second vs first years. It’s slightly unfair, but it’s a wonderful sound when Kyoutani’s spike slams onto the other side of the court.

 “Nice, Kyoutani!” Watari calls out.

  A sense of pride springs from within Shigeru, and he’s left wondering why while Kyoutani just nods and grunts at Watari’s encouragement.

 Tense shoulders and the ever present frown don’t seem to lessen with praise. Then in a second, the blond boy glances up at Shigeru, sharp amber eyes meet soft brown, and it leaves him breathless.

  “Good spike, Kyoutani.” There’s something… _interesting_ about the reserved and determined look in Kyoutani’s eyes.

  “Thanks.” Kyoutani gruffly responds, nodding humbly.

  Shigeru grins.

 

▲

 

  It’s been about two weeks since his sixteenth birthday, and he’s received more painless bruises since then. Night walks always helped clear his mind. Something about a moon that’s a billion light years away, yet it glows on his shoulders; it’s reassuring that distance and time is a mere illusion, that it can be overcome.

  Shigeru was currently supposed to be sleeping over at Watari’s house, but for some reason he had woken up in the middle of the night. Instead of going back to sleep, he slipped on his tennis shoes and slipped quietly through the front door with a spare key. (he’s done this several times by now, and Watari is okay with it)

  He’d been on enough night walks while at Watari’s house that Shigeru knew he wouldn’t get lost, but he still glances around him to make sure he’s walking the right path.

 Only five minutes into his walk, something golden catches his attention from the corner of his eye. It’s near a tree in the bushes, and it’s a person, Shigeru notices, as he walks closer.

  “Kyoutani?” Shigeru practically yelps in surprise. He sees Kyoutani jump and promptly tense his shoulders.

  The boy was wearing pajamas with long sleeves and had been resting at the bottom of a tree trunk, absentmindedly petting a stray cat. _Uh, I’m pretty sure it’s, like, two am…_

  “Wh- what are you doing here? So late at night?” Shigeru asks, furrowing his brows in concern as he looks down at Kyoutani’s tired face.

  “Could ask you the same thing.” Kyoutani growls.

 Just as Shigeru thinks of a retort, he notices Kyoutani’s laser-like stare on his exposed arm. He looks down to see red marks trailing down his own arm.

  “Oh, don’t worry about it, it’s just m-”

 “I don’t care. Someone could be giving you hickeys on your arm, and I couldn’t care less.” the boy responds, but still Kyoutani glares at his arm, rather than at Shigeru.

 Without even meaning to, Shigeru pouts, “Why are you so rude? Don’t you have anything better to do than hang around in the woods at two in the morning?”

  “Nah. I live here.”

  _He’s just impossible, isn’t he?_

  Shigeru just ends up pouting harder, almost a frown, but he’s too tired to actually become angry. “Are you doing drugs? Maybe you should get some sleep. This won’t benefit the team at all.”

  Kyoutani just snorts, and Shigeru sees the beginning of a smile, even if it is more like a condescending smirk. (Are those… _dimples_?) “ _No_ , I am not doing drugs. And even if I wanted to smoke weed, I don’t have the money to afford it. And, not that you care, but this lack of sleep also won’t _benefit_ _me_.” He mocks.

  Maybe it’s the haziness that is two am, but Kyoutani seems more awake and honest than Shigeru had ever seen him before.

 At Kyoutani’s comment, Shigeru actually frowns with concern, “What do you mean by that? Do you not have a place to sleep?”

 But the blonde boy just groans as he gets up from the grass, “Why does it matter to you?” The gruff tone back in his voice, “Good night.” With that, Kyoutani walks into the night, leaving a very confused yet concerned Shigeru behind.

 

△

 

   The red imprints of a wooden spoon were gone from his arm in the morning, so Kentarou was free to go to practice as usual today.

  His father would never let him go out looking like trash. (Absolute _bullshit_. There’s a reason all his scars and bruises can be covered with a simple shirt)

  With aching in his rib keen, Kentarou changes slowly in the locker room, sure that he’s the only one there.

  Once he reaches the gym, Yahaba comes up to him, “Why are you late to practice _again_?”

  Yahaba’s perfect eyebrows furrow in concern and annoyment, pink lips pouting, dainty upturned nose scrunched up; _how can someone be so pretty?_ ( _Show me, please, are you them? Do you see the purples and blues that stain me?_ Kentarou is hopeless)

  “Why do you care. I’m here, aren’t I?” Like hell he’d ever tell anyone the truth. Besides, if even the captain didn’t give him shit about it, it’s probably not important. Honestly, Kentarou’s lucky to even be allowed to practice volleyball.

  “Kyouken! Welcome! Are you ready for practice with the first years?” Oikawa’s annoyingly ( _fake_ ) cheery voice pierced his ears. The fake cheerfulness annoys the hell out of Kentarou;  Something bitter coils in his guts, _hold it in hold it in_

 “Why are you so annoying, Shittykawa? Kyoutani, make sure to warm up and stretch first.” Iwaizumi says from behind him. Kentarou likes him; a straightforward dude, not afraid to say what needs to be said.

   Kentarou nods and runs off to do his warm up laps. He tries not to think about the whispers he hears behind him.

“Are you sure he ever sleeps?”

“Why else would he be late to practice? He oversleeps all the time.”

 “Ooh, maybe I should make him do some face masks!”

   Kentarou rolls his eyes, but he will admit it’s better they think he’s lazy rather than a coward.

   _“Why don’t you go tell someone? If it’s so bad, go ahead. Tell someone you can’t stand up for yourself. This wouldn’t be happening if you got your shit together.”_

And though he never believes the old man, Kentarou will admit that it’s true. Why _hasn’t_ he told someone? But he always comes to the same conclusion.

   _Where would I go?_ (Who would ~~believe him~~ care?)

 “Kyoutani! C’mon, you gotta practice your receives.”

  He gets up from his stretches and jogs to his place on the court. It’s practice, but the court’s where he belongs, where he’s free. (Kentarou always does his best ignoring the loneliness that still haunts him, even on the court)

 

— – -

 

  Too caught up in the game, Kyoutani pays no mind to his surroundings. Mind solely on the game- no distractions, no mistakes.

  But on the other side of the gym, Yahaba slips, rolling his ankle as he sets to Iwaizumi.

  A yelp and a curse rips through gym, causing all practice to stop.

  The third years reach him first, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Oikawa’s voice, for once real, full of concern.

  Yahaba winces at the amount of people surrounding him, “I’m- I think I’m fine. My ankle just…” He looks down at his now sprained ankle, cradling his hurt hand, “I think I landed on my fingers.” _Fuck._

  Gently, the coach takes his cradled hand and examines it. There’s already swelling on his small finger, nail already turning purple from bruising.

  “Let’s get you some ice, you’ll have to sit out the rest of practice.”

  Yahaba just nods as he’s lifted up, arm around the coach’s shoulder, limping his way to the bench.

  His brown eyes meet Kyoutani’s for a split second, golden eyes filled with shock. Yahaba tries not to think of how pathetic he probably looks right now, how it shows how unprepared he is to be captain, how incapable he is; it’s enough for Yahaba to look away in shame.

  Yet Kyoutani stand there in complete horror as he watches his pinky finger turn purple.

 

— – -

 

    _Well, that’s unfair,_ Kentarou thinks miserably, secretly staring at Yahaba, who’s sitting out on the bench yet still helping the first years.

   Kentarou looks down at his wrapped up pinky, completely covering the bruise (nobody had questioned him because everyone is too afraid to question). _It’s unfair._ Yahaba deserves better; he deserves someone who can love, someone who knows how to be gentle. Instead, the beautiful and dedicated boy is stuck with a bruised and angry dog.

   For a year, he had thought that the lack of painless bruises had meant the Fates had finally done something right. But no, it was just Yahaba taking care of himself, which was good of course, but the months of convincing himself that having no soulmate was fine seemed pointless and stupid now.

  He grits his teeth. It’s not like he hadn’t noticed Yahaba before (how could he not when his beauty was blinding and his compassion admirable? Sure, most of the time Yahaba is annoying as hell, but he’s still… cute…), but he’d never let himself experience _anything_ , for he wasn’t even in control of his own life.

   Coach blew his whistle and called everyone to stretch while he talked about a practice match they’re going to have soon against another high school.

  Yahaba sits next to Watari on the floor, finger and ankle wrapped up. Soft brown hair perfectly swept to the sides, big caramel eyes with long eyelashes, and as he stretches his arm, Kentarou catches sight of the soft curve of his pale neck.

  He’s caught staring by Watari, who just raises an eyebrow in concern.

  Kentarou just glares by instinct and looks away, hoping his warm cheeks don’t give him away.

   _What’s this feeling? My heart is taking too much space, I can’t breathe._

 

_▲_

 

 They’re all now in the club room, changing after practice. Kentarou tries to look occupied while he avoids taking off his clothes.

  “Whoa… what the… hey, Yahaba, are you okay?” Hanamaki whispers loudly, catching the attention of everyone in the room.

   _This is all my fucking fault. Shit._ Shame and guilt twist his guts painfully as Kentarou sees his own scars and bruises ruining the sight that is Yahaba’s body.

  The lean body marred with blotches ranging from purple to a nasty yellow. The cigarette burns that scar Kentarou’s own body, now on Yahaba’s muscled abdomen. The giant scar he’d gotten two years ago from the accident… in which his mother had died.

  Kindaichi’s eyes widen, “Oh my god! What happened?! Were you in a fight?!” The whole team seemed perturbed by the horrifying marks.

 Yahaba just smiles nervously, still struggling to take his shirt off with his jacked up hand.

  This isn’t love ( _Who the fuck came up with this soulmate thing?)_ . Kentarou is just- he just keeps making all the pretty things _ugly_ . He never _asked for this_. And Yahaba sure as hell didn’t either.

  “It’s- they don’t hurt! Don’t worry I haven’t been getting into fights!” Yahaba hurriedly explains, “They’re actually my soulmate’s.” A small pained smile creeps onto his face.

  Kentarou takes it as Yahaba disliking to see his body fucked up. Kentarou can’t imagine waking up and seeing your body covered in revolting scars and bruises that you knew no cause of. (He can’t imagine waking up to a body without them either)

 There’s no doubt about it, Yahaba deserves someone better. Someone who doesn’t huff at everyone, someone who doesn’t struggle making a coherent sentence to someone else, someone who isn’t afraid, someone who doesn’t know how to not glare at literally everyone, someone who isn’t broken.

   Yes, Yahaba deserves someone equally as good as him. And it’s not Kentarou.

 

△

 

  “Maybe… they play a really rough sport? I mean, look at you, you have purple bruised up finger!” Hanamaki offers.

  Shigeru smiles, maybe he’s really not too far off from the truth, “Yeah, that’s what my mom said too.”

  Matsukawa nods thoughtfully, “Maybe they’re off fighting evil, like maybe they’re… beating up bullies and shit.”

  “Oh, oh! Maybe they’re rescuing endangered animals! Or they could just be a delinquent…” Kindaichi joins in.

  “Hm, well, I’m sure that wherever your soulmate is getting those bruises from, they’re probably fine! Honestly, I’m so lucky that Iwa-chan is a dumb gorilla, or I really wouldn’t have noticed that we’re soulmates!” Oikawa chirps happily as he drapes himself over Iwaizumi.

 Everyone groans at the annoyingly sweet memory of last year, of when Oikawa accidentally served a ball at Iwaizumi, who for some reason, did not even react to the speeding ball heading his way. Iwaizumi ended up with a black eye, and a squealing Oikawa who sported a matching bruise.

  “I was thinking… Maybe it’s like those things people do to make it really obvious who their soulmate is, you know? I mean who else is gonna have scars like these?” Shigeru says softly.

  Watari nods sagely, “It’s gotta be that, man.”

**(Nobody wanted to talk about the unpleasant possibility, though it was staring at them directly in the face. One’s comfort must be prioritized.)**

  “Oh, that’s so romantic!” Oikawa exclaimed, “Yahaba-chan, you’re so luck-”

  A loud bang cut Oikawa off, a locker slammed shut silencing the room. Everyone turned towards Kyoutani storming out of the club room, practice clothes still on.

 The shocked silence lasted a second, before-

 “Yo, do you think Kentarou is… _jealous_?” Hanamaki asks with a sly smile and a raised eyebrow.

  Shigeru laughs awkwardly, “What would he be jealous of? He’s just a grumpy kid…” He guesses it is annoying to hear about such frivolous thing in the club room.

  “Obviously, that you’ve got an easy way to find your soulmate!” Oikawa smiles, but there’s something serious in his eyes as he looks at the room entrance, as if it held answers to unasked questions.

 

△

 

   It’s dark in his small room, his bed creaks from his very move. Each noise thundering in the silent apartment.

  Kentarou tests the new bruise on his chest, wincing at the press of his finger.

  “Goddammit.” Once again, he couldn’t find a way to fight back. Everything the old man said made sense to him, in some sadistic and twisted way.

 

  _“Look, I brought some melon bread that you like so much. Got it on my way home.”_

_How to tell the old man he hated melon bread? That it reminded him of days that will never come back?_

_“What? Don’t you want it?”_

_“I’m kind of full right now…but thanks.”_

_“Oh. So you don’t want what I bought for you? I bought it for you.”_

_“Yeah… I just…”_

_“No, no. Why don’t you want it? Are you seriously being ungrateful right now? I had to walk to the corner store for this.”_

_You said it was on your way!_

_“...fine, I’ll eat it.” Kentarou reluctantly makes his way to the unwanted packaged food._

_The old man snatches it away, “Oh so now you want it? What is it, Kentarou? Can you ever speak properly? Are you stupid?”_

_Hold it in hold it in hold it in_

_(Nope, nope, I’ve had more than enough years dealing with this bullshit)_

_“I literally told you I already ate. Can’t I eat it later?”_

_The old man’s face burns red, “Now you talk back to me? That’s fucking gold.”_

_He approaches, and Kentarou tells himself to not cower._

_But the strike of a calloused fist makes it hard to stand his ground._

_“Who do you think let’s you live here? Selfish coward. Why do I still keep you, huh?”_

 

The funny thing is, the old man never hits him outside of his abdominal region. There’s never bruises or scars that can’t be hidden by a shirt or a scarf.

  (One time Kentarou had had to wear a scarf during summer- thank god everyone was too scared of his glare, which he had perfected over the years, to question him.)

 If the old man keeps his traces hidden, then he knows? Doesn’t he?

  But Kentarou never speaks out either; but who’s going to expect more of him?

  Who’s going to root for him? Who’s going to be upset if he’s not doing his best? Who’s waiting for him at the end of this long tunnel (more like a black hole)?

   His soulmate? No, Yahaba waits for something better.

  Kentarou is not strong; he’s not rescuing animals, he’s not carelessly playing sports, he’s never even been in a fight.

  And he definitely did not choose to crash the car that forced a burning pole onto his back.

  Fingernails dig into sweaty palms, his chest convulses as his breath runs short, everything is blurry.

   _Fuck fuck I don’t want this where am I why am I here why me why me why did you leave me alone why do I deserve this_

 Panic and anxiety terrorize Kentarou; _this is why I shouldn’t think, it always ends up in dumb shit._

Tears threaten to spill, but Kentarou prides himself in not letting himself be weak in this hellhole of a home. (the old man can probably hear everything)

 Kentarou inhales sharply as shaken thoughts rot his brain.

 

△

 

Now, Shigeru wouldn’t necessarily say he’s _attracted_ , he’s just…interested.

 But for the past week, Shigeru’s eyes have been finding Kyoutani. Everywhere.

  Passing by during class, right before lunch, before Kyoutani runs up to the roof to eat.

 Before school, where Kyoutani buys a steamed bun from the store in front of the school.

 And Shigeru’s also been noticing a lot of things about Kyoutani. The way he taps his thumb against all his fingertips when he’s looking at the court from the sidelines, or when he has to talk to someone. Like a nervous habit.

  Or the way his eyes deaden when he’s confronted before practice by a kid in another class. But the thing is, Shigeru has never seen Kyoutani actually physically fight anyone. For all the sharp words Kyoutani is quick to spit out, he’s never really yelled or threaten someone. It’s actually quite eye-opening.

 One time, Shigeru had seen him pass by his class through the window in the middle of a lesson. _Wonder where he’s going to…_

So Shigeru promptly raised his hand and asked to go to the bathroom. Inconspicuously, Shigeru followed Kyoutani… to the restroom?

  _Oh. Yeah, this is normal, haha,_ Shigeru scolds himself, _People need to piss…_

 He was about to leave, but he hears shuddering breaths and sniffles from the last stall- the only closed stall. At first Shigeru thinks Kyoutani’s just getting off (though at school? Seriously?); yet maybe...

  But there’s no way? Right? So Shigeru stayed there standing, not sure what he was waiting for.

  After a while, there’s some clangs from the stall being unlocked, and Shigeru begins to panic. Why did he even wait? What was the point? Was Kyoutani actually crying?

  Hurriedly, Shigeru leaves the restroom, closing the door behind him just as he spots bleached hair leaving the stall. He sighs in relief of not being caught, but he’s still notably confused.

  Why the hell did he wait?

 

_▲_

 

  After that, it feels almost inevitable to notice everything Kyoutani did at Every Moment.

 Whether it’s during class, during practice, or on the way home.

 Shigeru has noticed how Kyoutani’s eyebrows furrow deeper and his scowl turns into a grimace when he’s doing math homework, but his face and body relax when working on science.

  That’s another thing- Kyoutani is an incredibly hard worker. And Shigeru feels bad for only noticing till now.

  Kyoutani’s always doing his homework in the club room before practice starts, which are solid thirty minutes after school ends. He’s also always working on the weekends, and ever since the last tournament, he hasn’t missed a single practice. Sure, sometimes he’ll be a little late on the weekends, but he’s always out of breath and sweaty, as if he’d been running all the way to the gym.

  Lately, Shigeru’s been noticing the dark bags under Kyoutani’s eyes, how they’ve become almost bruises. And he’s concerned.

 Shigeru concludes that his concern is just a captain thing, that he’s worried about another teammates performance… yeah. That’s it.

 And also! They haven’t been fighting as much lately! Shigeru’s stumped on _why_ or _how_ or _what_ , but he’s not opposed to this change. But ever since the third years graduated a month ago, and he’d been officially named captain, Kyoutani has been reassuring and helpful at practice every day. Shigeru will gladly welcome a better relationship with Kyoutani, after all they are setter and ace. And it’s nice to not have to come up with bitter and meaningless comebacks all the time during practice. Turns out, Kyoutani is actually nice. _Who would have thought?_

  So when Shigeru sees Kyoutani pass, once again, by his classroom, his head down, he has this worming feeling that something’s wrong, and he wastes no time feeling confused about the concern that erupts in him. This obviously means Shigeru raises his hand asking to go to the restroom. His teachers glares at him a bit but let’s him go, and Watari furrows his eyebrows in question.

  Shigeru just shakes his head and practically runs to catch up to Kyoutani.

  Quietly, he goes into the restroom, getting a sense of déjà vu at the only locked stall at the end.

  Sniffles echo through the quiet restroom. Shigeru is still unsure what exactly he’s doing there, but he just has a feeling that he can’t leave Kyoutani alone. Not that he would in any case, how could he when he knew that Kyoutani is crying?

  A few minutes pass until Shigeru finally hears the clang of the stall opening, and he’s once again frozen with the urge to leave and panic. But if he leaves, what was the point of coming here?

  In the last second, Shigeru decides to leave, but just as he turns and opens the door he’s startled by the hoarse voice of a certain mad dog.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  Shigeru turns around, a grimace already painted on his face. _Fuck_. “I was… um, I just heard- I-” He struggles to explain himself, for he himself isn’t sure why he’s there.

  Kyoutani just sighs, almost turning into an exasperated groan. “Did- why are you here?” The piercing glare in Kyoutani’s golden eyes creates a lump of nervousness in Shigeru’s throat.

  Other than glaring back, Shigeru has no option but to explain himself, yet he hesitates. How would Kyoutani react?

 After his panicked haze, Shigeru finally notices Kyoutani’s puffy red eyes, and the almost invisible streaks of tears.

   “Are you okay?” Shigeru asks sincerely, cautiously stepping closer.

 Kyoutani’s eyes widen, and there’s something like desperation in his eyes, but Shigeru isn’t really sure.

  “I- I’m fucking fine. You can leave me alone. Did you follow me here?” Kyoutani looks shell-shocked, but his voice remains stolid.

  “Um...perhaps.” At this point, Shigeru wouldn’t be surprised if his face red from embarrassment. “I was worried.”

 Kyoutani just rolls his eyes and groans. “What-fucking-ever.” He turns to wet paper towels at the sink, then pressing them into his eyes.

 Quickly, Kyoutani wipes away stray tears and pushes his way past Shigeru, and surprisingly not bumping into Shigeru’s shoulder roughly, like he had expected.

  As Kyoutani walks past him, he hears him mumble, “It doesn’t matter.”

 Even more confused now, his chest aches for something that isn’t his, and he’s not quite sure why. Shigeru also feels a pang of annoyance at how quick and brisk Kyoutani was in turning his help away.

  _What exactly was the point of me coming here?_

 

△

 

  It’s been about three months, and Kentarou is struggling.

  He so desperately wants to throw himself at Yahaba and be held. But he _can’t._

 Everything’s moving too fast for him to comprehend what’s going on. First Yahaba suddenly begins to stare at him all the time, then he’s nicer and friendlier towards Kentarou, and lastly the situation in the restroom. Everything’s changing much too fast, and Kentarou’s not sure if it’s for the better or not.

 And he most definitely cannot let Yahaba know about them being soulmates. The immense guilt of knowing is already killing him, but the disappointment that would surely cover Yahaba’s face when he found out would destroy him.

 He’s not sure he can handle his soulmate hating him. Yet…

 Yet Yahaba has been uncharacteristically nice. Or maybe not uncharacteristically, but just… nicer to Kentarou. It’s utterly pathetic how a few kind words will bring him to his knees and melt his brain into soup.

  Now Kentarou finds himself looking after Yahaba. Suddenly everything about Yahaba is endearing and cute and kind and- _No._ He- can’t.

 He knows he can’t keep it a secret forever, but if just hiding it a little bit longer will make Yahaba’s life a bit better, then he’ll make sure his shirt is tucked in and change until everyone is gone.

  At times he’ll forget exactly why he’s hiding, but all it takes is one look at the mirror, just one glimpse at his tormented eyes, at his permanent frown for him to remember that he is impossible to love.

  It makes his heart ache. _Stupid Yahaba, if he hadn’t fallen, my heart would be okay._

 Longing is painful, and Kentarou is scared of it turning into need.

 

△

 

  Once again, Shigeru finds himself absolutely stumped. Why, oh why, does he care so much?!

  “Bro, maybe you have a crush on him?” Watari says one day, during lunch break. They’re currently sitting underneath a tree in the courtyard.

  This immediately makes Shigeru choke on a piece of lettuce he had been chewing. “Excuse me, _what_. I already have a soulmate! Why would I have a crush on someone? And on the Mad Dog, out of everyone?” Doubt and denial flood his thoughts.

  Watari smirks, “Well, there’s nothing wrong with dating someone while waiting for your soulmate, maybe they’ll turn out better than your soulmate. It’s happened to plenty of people. And besides, is your soulmate really...something to look forward to? Considering all those scars and bruises you have?”

  “Shut up! Their scars have nothing to do with their personality! And- and I’m definitely going to love my soulmate. I can _feel_ it.” Shigeru sniffs, but doubt still clouds his mind. “And I do _not_ have a crush on Ky- on Mad Dog,” he finishes in a hushed tone, aware that others nearby could be eavesdropping.

  Watari just shrugs, “Sure, whatever you say man.”

 

_▲_

 

  After that, Shigeru’s head is flooded with Kyoutani- more than it was before. This… does he have crush? Or is he just concerned? Damn Watari!

  There’s just no way he could have a crush on a boy, who, for the better part of the year, spit brash words at him.

  But when Shigeru finds himself waiting outside the club room ten minutes after everyone had left, he begins to seriously question his motives. Sure, he’s always been curious as to why Kyoutani always waited for everyone to leave before he changed, but Shigeru had put it off as a privacy thing, if not some kind of body issue (though he doubted Kyoutani was anything other than ripped- not that he’d thought of Kyoutani’s body before!). Shigeru sighs, his brain has been a mess ever since those scars had appeared on his body. And that’s not even why he’s waiting, he’s waiting because- because he needs to _talk_ to Kyoutani about their homework for chemistry.

  Remembering where he is, Shigeru decides to peek into the club room, check if Kyoutani has already changed.

  What he finds instead is… is fucking horrifying. Shigeru can’t even begin to comprehend what exactly he’s seeing.

  The- there’s… _Holy shit._ The air around Shigeru seems to still, and the air is suddenly sour and suffocating.

  Holy fucking _shit_ . There’s red welts covering Kyoutani’s tan body, and a purple bruise on his collarbone- _just like the one Shigeru has_. Shigeru wants to barf.

  This has to be coincidence. There’s just no way. No fucking way. How- How could-? He-

 In Shigeru’s state of complete shock almost misses the glimpse of Kyoutani’s broad back- and _fuck_ does it make Shigeru want to slam the door open and demand answers. It’s- It’s _horrifying_ to see the same scars on his own body on- on someone else, somebody he _knows_ , somebody he talks to _daily_.

  How- How did he never realize? How did he not _see_ ? Panic and confusion and _shame_ fill his lungs; he can’t breathe, and he can’t take his eyes of the gruesome scars on tan skin- he has to do something, he has to, he has to-

  Instead, Shigeru turns away and _runs_ , not even realizing there are tears running down his cheeks _._ He runs until he’s sure he’ll be too tired to think before he falls asleep, too tired to remember that… his soulmate is Kyoutani Kentarou.

 

△

 

  Kentarou turns at the club room door clanging shut. He swears he catches a head of light brown hair, but it might’ve just been his imagination.

 Hopefully it doesn’t bring him any trouble. He pulls on his shirt resolutely.

 

△

 

  It’s been three days since Shigeru- since he found his soulmate.

  After talking about it with his parents and Watari for _hours_ and hours, Shigeru really _really_ wanted to tell Kyoutani.

  He’s not sure if he’s _in love_ with Kyoutani, but he sure as hell wants new bruises to stop appearing. Shigeru isn’t sure where the bruises and the scars come from, but he has to do something. Kyoutani is his _soulmate._ (it’s still fucking wild to think)

 

  Fortunately, Shigeru doesn’t have to say anything.

Shigeru’s obviously early to practice, setting up the net with a first year, Morita Itsuki, who’s been giving it his all for a starter position next year.

  “Hey, Captain, why is… did you get in a fight? Or is someone bullying you?” Itsuki, a curious yet well-meaning guy, asks Shigeru when he sees a giant purple contusion on his face.

  It’d been a stinging red yesterday at night, but when he had woken up, it’d turned into a purple mess. It was right at the hinge of his jaw, growing underneath his jaw and up his cheek.

 “Oh, no, um. Just- my soulmate.” Shigeru answers. He couldn’t use his mother’s concealer because she was tanner than him, so he’s already resigned himself to a day full of people asking him if he’s okay.

 But then, Kyoutani walk in, still 20 minutes before practice starts, with a purple bruise stretching across his jaw. Though knowing what he knows, it hadn’t even occurred to him that Kyoutani would also be sporting the same bruise out in the open.

  “Hey.” Kyoutani says, bending down to tie his shoes, bruise in full view.

  Shigeru stared in shock; the identical yet painless bruise seemed to burn on his skin. Itsuki stood still next to him, net forgotten, looking back and forth between them. Kyoutani hadn’t even looked up from tying his shoelaces.

  “C- Captain! Is- Isn’t that- is Kyoutani-” Itsuki stutters, confused yet astonished at the supposedly new discovery.

 

— – -

 

  Even though they both each knew that they were soulmates, they didn’t know the other knew. It was with these incredible circumstances that both were not shocked with displeasure nor amazement.

  Kentarou finally looks up, unaware of the static in the air, unaware of the realizations that needed to be made. His eyes first see the stunned look on Itsuki, making him furrow his eyebrows and tilt his head in confusion, but then he sees Shigeru’s face; his pale pretty face stained purple. Suddenly it feels like his throat is stuck in a moment between a breath and a gasp.

  Shigeru takes a step towards Kentarou. “I…” Is all Shigeru manages to say before Kentarou turns around and runs out the gym, but not before Shigeru sees an angry glare in those amber eyes. _Why are you running?_

  With wide eyes filled with surprise, Shigeru is frozen for a second, before he realizes _I need to talk to him._

“Uh, Captain?” Itsuki says, clearly shaken.

 With just a glance at the first year, Shigeru replies, “Don’t worry. I’ll probably be late to practice.”

 

— – -

 

  Finding Kyoutani wasn’t hard. It’s early morning, and Shigeru had a feelings that the blonde boy didn’t really want to run away.

  He finds him by the water on the side of the gym, crouching in the shadows. Shigeru’s unsure how to make his presence known, but his heart _aches_.

_Kyoutani is my soulmate._

  It kind of makes sense. No- it definitely does. Kyoutani doesn’t underestimate him, doesn’t sugarcoat his words like so many people in Shigeru’s life. Kyoutani’s unexpectedly gentle and warm, he’s so genuine and passionate. He’s hard working and… and _alone_. Shigeru’s not letting that perpetual loneliness in Kyoutani’s life continue.

 

  “Kyoutani.”

 

  Kyoutani’s head whips towards Shigeru so fast, Shigeru winces. “What- what do you want?” He tries to grunt, but it comes out as a plea. The anger in his eyes waver into worry and… fear?

  “Are you okay?” Shigeru asks, kneeling down next to Kyoutani.

 “W- what?” Kyoutani stutters, eyes wide at Shigeru’s gentle expression.

 Carefully, Shigeru places his hand on top of Kyoutani’s, not missing the small flinch at the contact. “So… We’re soulmates.”

  Kyoutani’s face morphs into something like guilt, but Shigeru has absolutely no clue _why_. Shouldn’t everyone be looking forward to meeting their soulmate? Shouldn’t this be a moment of euphoria? For both of them? Is Shigeru the only one who’s heart is threatening to break free from his chest?

  “I’m… I’m so sorry.” Kyoutani mutters.

 If everything Shigeru has seen so far is shocking, Kyoutani saying _sorry_ for no reason is… Shigeru can’t even process how unexpected it is.

  He’s taken aback, almost speechless. “Why are you sorry?”

  “You… you’re stuck with me. Me, my… scars. I didn’t…” Kyoutani mutters, not looking at Shigeru in the eyes. His hand gripping his own arm tightly, almost painfully.

   _Stuck?_

  “I didn’t want you to find out. It would’ve been better if you had lived your whole life without me. I can’t… I’m not someone you can love. I know this sounds dumb, but- but you’re stuck with all my scars. You’re _so pretty_ , and now- now you’re stuck with all those awful scars that I- that my- … I’m sorry.” Kyoutani rants, words spilling quickly from his lips without thought.

  Shigeru feels sick. How- how could all this… _fear_ be bottled up in a person? It takes a while for everything Kyoutani just said to register in his brain.

  “Wait, you _knew_?” Shigeru shouts. Instantly, Kyoutani recoils in fear, Shigeru’s hand slides off his.

  _Fuck._ Suddenly everything seems so real. It’s not like Shigeru didn’t know the possibilities, but now, seeing Kyoutani being uncharacteristically scared and vulnerable. It drains the blood from his face. Reality crashes down on him, and Shigeru regrets letting three days pass without a word.

  Shigeru approaches Kyoutani cautiously, “Kyoutani, I’m… There is _nothing_ wrong with you. We’re _soulmates._ We’re made for each other, no matter what. I- sure, maybe right now we’re not _in love,_ per se, but you don’t have to be alone. Please, trust me. And these scars? I don’t care how they make me look, I only care about _you._ ”

  Kyoutani looks up at him, a small gleam of hope in his eyes. “...are you sure? There’s things that you-”

  Shigeru grabs Kyoutani’s warm hand, “Nothing could ever make me change my mind, not about this. I promise.” Shigeru smiles softly, encouragingly.

  There’s many things Shigeru doubts, but somehow this promise is something Shigeru will never regret and never break.

 

△

 

  It’s been two weeks ever since that day, in which Yahaba found out they are soulmates, and Kentarou has felt lighter and freer. There’s something about knowing that there will always be someone you can hug and trust that relieves the pressure, bit by bit, that Kentarou has built over the past seventeen years.

  Sure, Kentarou hasn’t… exactly explained his scars and his fears, but he’ll… he’ll have to hope that Shigeru will stick around until he can talk about it.

   _Hope._ That’s something fucking new. Kentarou can’t help grinning at the possibilities of it.

  “What’re you smiling about?” Yahaba asks with pure and unrestricted gentleness that Kentarou practically melts.

  They’re eating lunch together on the rooftop, their joined hands between them.They haven’t really done much except talk and stick together and hold hands (which makes Kentarou feels _so safe_ , though he’s scared to admit in fear of it being taken away, even if he knows Shigeru would never do that to him), and the ache in Kentarou’s heart is no longer painful.  A quiet breeze blows over them, rustling Yahaba’s soft hair, and Kentarou can’t help but think, _I think I’m already in love._

“Nothing.” Kentarou mutters, but the small grin doesn’t leave his face. He’s still worried about sounding too gruff and offish, so he interlaces Yahaba’s fingers with his, carefully (doubtfully).

 Yahaba smiles sweetly, and it has Kentarou’s heart racing.

 

  It’s wonderful not being alone.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading :) comment your thoughts and... i might possibly continue writing more short stories about them? scratch that. I'm definitely writing more. there's so much i want to write surrounding this au, and hopefully you guys will want that as well, my lil babeys ken and shigeru deserve so much fluff (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ
> 
> my tumblr's @im-a-beautiful-meme, i'm always up for prompts!


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